The Power of Soup

The hours between 3:00 AM & 5:00 AM, are the lonely hours for a waitress on the graveyard shift in a downtown diner. The club kids had headed home to pass out, with a belly full of food and enough coffee to keep any sober person awake for hours, and the early risers were still snug in their beds.

Lucy had worked this shift at Rick’s Diner for the past 18 months and had gotten used to the rhythm. She had finished bussing all the tables and was busy refilling the table condiments when the familiar tinkle of the bells that hung over the door drew her attention. A cold breeze rushed in behind a young girl. Lucy instinctively plunged her hands into her sweater pockets and shivered. Winter was coming early this year.

“Have a seat wherever you like, honey. I’ll be right with you.”

The girl stood hesitantly looking at the floor, and for a moment Lucy wondered if she would leave as quickly as she arrived. Instead, she kept her head low as her eyes darted around the room, studying her new environment. Locking in on her target, she moved quickly toward a booth in the corner by the big front window, removed her backpack and slid onto the bench seat facing the dining area.

Lucy had just made a fresh pot of coffee, intending to take a break as soon as the breakfast prep was complete. She grabbed the pot, along with a white porcelain mug, and headed to the table. As she neared, the pungent odour of urine hit Lucy’s nostrils like a sucker-punch. She had to make a concentrated effort not to let the instant revulsion show on her face.

Looking down at the girl, she smiled gently. “Can I start you off with some coffee, hun?” she said, raising the pot toward her.

At first, she didn’t respond, but when Lucy placed the mug on the table the girl quickly flashed her bright green eyes toward Lucy and nudged the cup in her direction. Lucy hadn’t even finished pouring when the girl tore open two packets of sugar and added them to the hot brew. She followed with cream and began to stir vigorously.

She couldn’t be more than twenty, Lucy thought. Thin and frail. Her long, curly, dark brown hair was matted in spots and pulled back into a loose ponytail. She hadn’t bathed in days, maybe weeks. Something about that didn't make sense, but Lucy couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Have a look at the menu,” Lucy said, pulling one from the table holder and placing it in front of the girl, who visibly recoiled as the menu moved in her direction. “I’ll come back in a minute, sweetie”.

Lucy walked back to her station and watched the girl from across the room as she continued her prep work. She cupped the mug in both hands, gulping it down as she surveyed the room anxiously, muttering to herself. This girl had to be starving. She was skin and bones and the way she went after that coffee told Lucy she needed to get something, anything, in her stomach. No doubt she was freezing too. It was only the middle of October, but snow was already in the forecast, and she was clearly underdressed for the cold.

As she headed back to the table, coffee pot in hand, Roxy emerged from the kitchen. “I’m back,” she said, “you can go for your break. I’ll hold down the fort.”

Lucy nodded toward the front window. “I have a table.”

“Seriously Lucy, why did you even let her in?”

“She was cold. And by the looks of it, she’s starving.”

“Well, you better get her out of here before Rick comes in, or you’ll be on the street with her,” she said, heading back through the kitchen doors shaking her head. Roxy, a career waitress with over 30 years of service under her belt, had a low tolerance for street people. No doubt she would have shown the girl how the door swings both ways before she had even made it through the foyer had she been present for her arrival.

Lucy approached the table, this time prepared for the smell. She smiled and lifted the coffee pot in the girl’s direction. She didn’t look up, but pushed her cup toward the edge of the table. “Can I get you something to eat?” Lucy asked, trying unsuccessfully to make eye contact.

Quickly grabbing her backpack, the young lady slipped her thin fingers into the front pocket. She retrieved a handful of coins, a button and a hard candy wrapped in silver paper and placed them on the table. Lucy could quickly see that it didn’t add up to enough for a meal. In fact, it would barely cover the coffee. Lucy smiled as she scooped up a couple of the smaller coins. “It looks like you have enough here for a hot bowl of soup,” she said, pushing the rest of the coins into the center of the table. “You go ahead and put the rest of that back in your bag, hun.”

In the kitchen, Lucy ladled out a large bowl of soup and added a couple of pieces of bread on the side. Roxy looked up from the potatoes she was peeling, “Does she have enough to cover that? We’re not running a charity you know.”

“It’s covered,” Lucy said over her shoulder as she walked back out the swinging doors. She would pay the bill herself out of her tips, but Roxy didn’t need to know that. It would just lead to more head shaking and a lecture on the evils of street life.

“Here you go, love. It’s minestrone.” Lucy placed the steaming bowl of soup in front of the girl. She quickly took a bite of the bread and then plunged her spoon into the bowl before Lucy had even turned to walk away.

Returning to the kitchen Lucy busied herself chopping veggies for the breakfast rush. Omelettes were a popular item and before long she had made tidy little piles of peppers, onions, and mushrooms, Before tackling the tomatoes, she headed back out to the dining room to check on her customer only to find she had finished every scrap of food and vanished.

After cleaning the table, Lucy looked out the big front window, not really sure what she expected to see. It was still dark. The wind was stirring leaves into little clusters that whirled and danced down the sidewalk. Naked elm trees reached out their gnarly fingers, to tap out a haunting refrain against the window. She wrapped her sweater tighter around herself. She couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something just didn’t seem right, just didn’t fit somehow.

She rang up the sale, taking the money from her tip jar to cover the bill, and then headed back to the kitchen to finish chopping the tomatoes.

*****

For the next couple of nights, the girl showed up like clockwork, and they developed a comfortable rhythm. Lucy would serve her coffee and a bowl of soup. The girl would leave whatever change she had on the table for Lucy to pick from. Never taking more than a couple of small coins, Lucy covered the rest of the bill out of her tips. It was a bit like feeding a feral cat. Lucy knew she had to keep her distance or risk scaring her away.

On the third night, Lucy watched from across the room, as the girl pulled a small black notebook, and a hard plastic case containing charcoal pencils, from her backpack and began to sketch. Much as she tried, Lucy couldn’t get a glimpse inside the book, but she did see a name inscribed in gold lettering on the front cover. It read, ‘Toni’. Who was Toni? And why did she have his book? Both the book and the pencils were in pristine condition. They were obviously prized possessions.

Lucy couldn’t shake the feeling that something just didn’t add up with this girl. The more she thought about it, the more she wondered where a girl on the street would get such nice things. She didn’t have much, but what she did have was good quality. Where would a girl like that get a leather backpack? Or a leather book?

Roxy poked her head out the kitchen door. “Lucy, your mom’s on the phone.”

“Coming.”

Most people would be freaked out by a call from their mother in the middle of the night, but for Lucy, it was nothing new. Her mother suffered from insomnia. She picked up the phone. “Hey, mom. What’s up?”

“I’m sorry, honey, I won’t be able to pick you up tomorrow. The car’s in the shop again.”

“Oh, no. How much this time?”

“I don’t know yet. It’ll be a couple weeks 'till I can get it back.”

“What you need is a new car.”

“I know baby.”

“Don’t worry mom. I’ll see what I can do to help. Get some sleep.”

“Love you, baby.”

“Love you too mom.”

When she returned to the dining room, the soup girl was gone. Lucy went to the window. Looking into the darkness, she felt a lump in her throat. Where was this girl's family? She knew without a doubt that her own mother would search to the ends of the earth for her.

She stood in the window watching as sleet turned to snow.

By morning the city was covered in a sparkling white blanket of icy cold. Lucy stood shivering at the bus stop. She pulled her scarf up, wondering how the girl had stayed warm overnight, or if she had. Her heart ached for her.

*****

Before leaving for work, Lucy carefully selected a cute hat with bear ears that her mother had hand-knit for her years ago, a matching scarf and some mitts. It would please her mother to know they went to good use. She placed them in the soup girl’s booth hoping that she would accept them. She did.

Eight more nights the girl came into the diner, sketching in her little black book and eating soup. And then, as suddenly as she had appeared, she disappeared. Lucy stood at the window night-after-night watching for her. She wondered where the girl was and prayed that she was safe and warm.

*****

Christmas eve Lucy arrived at work, stomping the snow off her boots as she walked through the door. Roxy came running out of the kitchen. “You got a Christmas card,” she said, waving a red envelope. “Hand delivered! And a package too!”

“Hand delivered? By who?”

Roxy just shrugged, “Some guy in a black overcoat.”

Lucy took the envelope from Roxy. There was no return address, just her first name, written in gold pen across the velvety smooth red envelope.

“Go on, open it!”

Lucy carefully lifted the edges of the flap and pulled out the card. When she opened it a piece of paper fluttered to the ground, she ignored it and read the card.

Merry Christmas Lucy!

How do I begin to thank you? You showed my daughter, Antonia, compassion when no one else would. You nourished not only her body, but also her soul. You gave her hope when she was lost. You gave her the strength to fight and the will to survive. Never underestimate the power of kindness and a warm bowl of soup.

Please accept the enclosed gift with my immeasurable gratitude.

Roxy bent down to pick up the paper from the floor and handed it to Lucy. “What is it?”

Lucy looked at the paper through tear-filled eyes, unable to comprehend what she was looking at “A money order for $20,000.”

“Open the package!" Roxy urged.

Lucy tore away the paper to reveal a framed charcoal drawing of a young girl in a hand-knit, bear-eared hat. It was signed ‘Toni’.